But Here Is All Aright
by On-A-Dare
Summary: Castiel followed Anna for thousands of years. Getting her to follow him is a bit trickier. Christmas story -- Follows "I Am But Mad."


**But Here Is All Aright**

**Disclaimer:** Just playing with Kripke's toys.

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_The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap_

_His hair was like a light_

_O weary, weary were the world_

_But here is all aright_

A Christmas Carol Poem

G.K. Chesterton

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**Ohio – 15 December 1990**

Castiel can see Anna.

He didn't come here for that purpose. Of course. He only came to carry out his orders. Observe. It's an order that, deep down, wearies Castiel a bit now. But he still follows it. It is the Christmas season, and this shopping mall is teeming, noisy, bustling. There are, quite literally, hundreds of people here to watch. To occupy his attention.

But he can see her, in the aisle of a crowded department store, standing on her tiptoes to get a better view of a display of nutcracker figurines.

And he can see Rich and Amy Milton, on the other side of the store. He had watched as they rendezvoused by a snowflake bedecked tree, exchanged horrified looks and said_, I thought she was with __**you**__!_ At the moment, two store employees and a security guard are trying, less than successfully, to calm them down.

_Her name is Anna. She's five years old. She's about this tall. She has red hair. She's wearing a blue dress and white tights. Rich, you have her new picture in your wallet, don't you? Show them her picture._

For her part, Anna finally turns her attention away from the colorful wooden soldiers, looks around, and realizes that her family has gone astray. She peers first up one aisle, then down another, puzzled, but not panicked. With no tears, no hysterics, the other shoppers pass her by with only half-glances. Every adult assumes that she is with some other passing adult. As Castiel observes, she frowns at her surroundings, squares her small shoulders, and begins to walk purposefully. A child on a search mission.

Alone.

But she is of no consequence, Castiel tells himself with resolve. Anna is not his reason for being here.

She does not warrant special consideration.

She is not his responsibility.

She………….is going the wrong way.

It's just as well that Castiel's natural form doesn't possess breath, otherwise half of Housewares, would have just been leveled by an exasperated sigh.

In days gone by, Castiel had followed her around the world a thousand times over as they carried out their orders. It's ingrained. Anna has only been gone for a handful of years; the pull is still there.

Anna goes. And, just like the old days, Castiel follows.

Except now he keeps his distance. And keeps his silence. Castiel remembers all too well what happened the _last _time that he allowed himself to get this close to his sister.

But she is older now. And perhaps the busy store helps to mask him as well. Anna doesn't so much as spare a glance over her shoulder as Castiel shadows her down the aisle, past a display of holiday dishes. Several aisles come together here, and Anna pauses, seeming to weigh her options.

Anna may be self-possessed for her age, but she is still just a child. And a display of dolls off to the right suddenly looks much more interesting than finding wayward parents.

Angels are prohibited from interfering directly in the affairs of humans. But there is something of a grey area as to what constitutes "direct interference" depending on who is interpreting the rule. And the chain of command does not keep tabs on every single angel at every single moment.

So, against what he is pretty sure is his better judgment, Castiel carefully reaches out. And a large, cardboard-cutout snowman falls across the aisle where the dolls are displayed, blocking Anna's path.

It's not much of a barrier, but it might be enough to make a small child stop and think.

Anna halts, eyeing the fallen snowman with a faint frown. But after a moment she seems to collect herself, and nods. She turns and goes back the other way.

Still not quite on a course that will lead back to the Miltons. But it is something.

Anna stops again where her chosen aisle forks. She's whispering under her breath. Castiel draws closer, listening.

"Left or right? Left or right? Left or right?" She thinks and then nods decidedly. "Left."

Anna turns right and heads for a small forest of Christmas knick-knacks.

At this rate, she is going to stumble onto her parents sometime around Epiphany.

She had had a much better sense of direction as an angel.

Still, Castiel thinks, if she were to turn toward the large music box on the pedestal ahead and to the left, she'll at least be going the right way.

It's a simple matter, assuming that it will be heard among the piped in music and low din of voices.

Castiel reaches out, and the music box—a wintery carousel—begins to turn and play.

_Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o'er the plains._

Anna turns her head. Eyeing it a little bit warily, she nonetheless walks slowly toward it until she is resting her hands on the edge of the pedestal, watching the small silver and gold horses twirl beneath their boughs of holly.

For just a moment, she looks back over her shoulder, as if searching for something.

Possibly someone.

_And the mountains in reply, echoing their joyous strains._

The carousel, having done its job in catching her attention, spins to a halt. But the song is picked up, almost without missing a beat, by a music box a little further up the aisle—a man and woman in Victorian finery, dancing a waltz.

_Gloria, in excelsis Deo._

Suddenly, Anna grins.

It's no pillar of fire, but it's the best Castiel can do under the circumstances. And it seems to be working.

Anna skips along the aisle, her black dress shoes clicking against the tile floor, toward the dancing couple, who come to the end of their waltz as she reaches them.

Another intersection. Anna looks left. Looks right. Looks straight ahead.

And then closes her eyes, listening. Waiting.

Ahead and to the left, a small train starts up, endlessly circling a snow-covered depot.

_Shepherds, why this jubilee? Why your joyous strains prolong?_

Anna opens her eyes, and smiles. She follows the music to the left.

After the train comes a trio of chickadees in red and white stocking caps. Then an elf carrying a stack of presents. Then a reindeer prancing under bare white trees. Then a sugarplum fairy with wand aloft.

_Gloria, in excelsis Deo._

A safe and sturdy rope of music that leads the way through the stands and shelves and busy shoppers.

And on the other side of the sugarplum fairy…

"Anna!"

A half second later, Anna has been swept up somewhere between the arms of her mother and father.

His self-imposed task complete, Castiel draws back from the family. But not too far. Just for a few minutes, he stays to watch.

The small seed of weariness has not gone away. Perhaps it never really will. But for this moment, it is overshadowed by something else.

Here, for this moment, things are all aright.


End file.
